


Dreaming is Better than Waking

by Redfire_Dragon



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Fluff, Sad, Sweet, Unobtainable, logic vs feeling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redfire_Dragon/pseuds/Redfire_Dragon
Summary: There are problems with falling in love with an organic. Only in his dreams could he escape them.This was originally just a part of something I was working on (finally started posting main story http://archiveofourown.org/works/11592387/chapters/26083131) but I've come up with a few more dreams so this is becoming a collection of random dreams for all sorts of transformer characters.I am open to requests, writing gets better with practice after all.Working on one for Jazz. Stupid Jazz, making it so hard for me.





	1. Ratchet: Made of Water not Iron

In his dreams she was always cybertronian, to begin with anyway. Sometimes she was a two wheeler like Arcee, other times a delicate seeker. She was a pilot where she came from after all, and there were times in the waking world that he could see a very seeker-like sky hunger in her eyes. She was always perfect, her slim frame an echo of her organic body.

"Ratchet." She grinned at him denta showing as her bright optics met his. So it was one of these ones. She practically danced down the corridor to him. "I missed you!" She jumped him, throwing her arms around his neck knocking him back on his pedes.

His spark twisted painfully, he knew what was coming. He didn't always but this time he did and tried to stave off the inevitable. "Hey there." He kept his arms at his sides, servos open.

She pulled back a little so she could look up into his optics. She kept her arms around his neck though, digits knit together, forcing him to lean forward a bit. "You were gone so long!"

"I'm sorry. I... I missed you too." His voice shook, vocalizer stuttering as he fought the dream. Couldn't he just stay like this? Standing here with her arms around his neck, looking up at him with love in those perfect optics. He couldn't deny her. Not even knowing what would happen could stop him. His arms went around her and he closed his optics.

It started almost immediately. "Ratchet? Ratchet! You are hurting me!" Every time.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, feeling her body crush under his touch.

"Please! Ratchet! You are hurting me!" She struggled and there was a sickening crack.

"I'm so, so sorry." Bones cracked, organs crushed, her cybertronian form giving way to fragile organics. His dream of what she could be, what they could be, giving way to the cruelty of reality. He sobbed as he felt her die in his arms, too weak, too fragile to survive. At least this time he hadn't had to watch as she turned to lifeless grey.


	2. Ratchet: And Time Will Steal

Ratchet ran his digits over the machine's controls. He was supposed to be checking that it was working properly but he was finding it difficult to focus. She was in the medbay, his medbay, too. Not that she was with him. No she was talking to another mech a little way off. That was fine, completely fine. She had the right to speak to whomever she pleased. And the right to her privacy. He would not eavesdrop, no matter the temptation. He stared down at a blinking light trying to remember what he had been testing.

Abruptly the other mech's voice rose. Angry? Frustrated? Making an advance? Her reply sounded upset. Even if he wasn't eavesdropping he should check to make sure things were okay right? He turned his helm to see the other mech reach out and grab her arm. The way she jerked back with a frown was all the information he needed.

In a moment Ratchet was there, his own servo clamping down on the offending mech's wrist hard enough to dent. The mech protested angrily then let out a yelp as Ratchet dug his thumb into a crevice in the other's wrist plating until he let her go. She was protesting too now but he was too angry to listen as he threw the other mech out of the medbay closing and locking the door behind him.

"Ratchet! What are you doing! I had that handled!"

"Oh Puh-lease. Are you really trying to tell me you wanted him to grab you like that?" he practically sneered at her. 

"Well no but" She crossed her arms over her chestplates defensively. She was making that embarrassed yet defiant face that drove him crazy. "That, That is none of your business!" There was a subtle challenge in her voice that sent a shudder down his spinal strut.

In two strides he was practically on top of her. She took half a step back startled as he loomed over her. He knew he shouldn't, it was her choice not his, but he was sick of holding back. He gripped her by the shoulders and half slammed her back against the wall. "None of My business?" He growled

"Ratchet what are yo" He kissed her hard, practically slamming his face into hers, rough and passionate. He forced his way into her mouth, hearing the sound of her cooling fan kicking in with no small amount of smugness. Clearly part of her wanted this too.

He broke off the kiss with the same suddenness he'd started it with. She stared up at him dazed and he growled pulling her a little away from the wall only to shove her back into it again. "I am done playing, you hear? You, you belong to me. Understand?" It was an effort to keep his grip relaxed enough not to hurt her.

She blinked at him then her expression relaxed, optics half closing in a smug look. But relief and pure joy far outshone the smugness. "Oh Ratchet, I was starting to worry you didn't like me." She half whispered, lifting one servo to caress the side of his face. Then she gave a half pout. "Did you really have to make me wait so long? So mean."

He hadn't realized that part of him had still been afraid she would reject him until he felt it relax. "I won't ever make you wait again." He promised pulling her close and kissing her again. Gentler this time, but no less insistent, claiming her as his own. He could take his time now to make her his as much as he was already hers. All the time in the world to explore their love.

Too soon she broke the kiss and moved her head to nuzzle against his neck. He held her gently letting his own head rest at the join between her neck and shoulder, breathing in her scent. Her blunted digits stroked down his back, teasing at a seam in his plating making him shiver.

"Ratchet love." His spark warmed to hear her call him that but she sounded sad and that worried him. Why? What was there to "Ratchet you waited too long." She sounded heartbroken and he felt a flash of terror run through him. He pulled back to look at her, feeling her plating seem to soften. Right before his horrified optics she began to turn to dust, blowing away on a sudden wind. Soon all that remained was a humanoid skeleton, which stayed for only a few seconds before it too began to crumble to dust. He felt something knock loose from his spark. As the wind stole all that was left of his love he felt that something tear out through his vocalizer as a howl of agony, only to be stolen by that same cruel wind, to be lost to him forever.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet's waking world
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11592387/chapters/26083131
> 
> No his girl isn't the dragon, and no it isn't Reader insert like I made the dreams but it should be fun, and saaaaad (so basically just like these dream sequences x.x)


	3. Prowl: Letting Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl dreams of being a car owned by the beautiful human he's caught glimpses of. But pretending to be just an ordinary car is hard when you aren't just a dumb machine.

He was parked in someone's driveway.

It took Prowl a moment to figure out what was going on. His battle computer kicked into gear and spat out garbage at him and he thought something was horribly wrong until he realized he was dreaming and shut it off.

A suburban setting? Would she be in his dream again? An Autobot looking forward to dreaming of being the vehicle of a human? Prowl snorted at the foolishness of it shutting his battle computer down (again) as it tried to calculate the probability. It was sort of embarrassing really. He would never admit to any of this. Ever.

There she was, coming out of the house, locking the door behind her and approaching with keys. Keys? She unlocked his driver's door and got in, buckling up. Prowl hadn't been aware he had key mechanisms in his doors. Autobots didn't need such things, they locked or unlocked their own doors at will, but there had been definite differences since they had been rebuilt as earth vehicles by Teletran-1 after the awful crash on this world.

Even odder was the sensation of her jabbing that same key into his ignition and feeling his engine start as she twisted. He let out a small gasp, metal siding flaring slightly with his affront. He primed his vocalizer to speak, to beg her pardon, to scold that he could start his own engine thank you very much, when her foot came down hard on his break pedal. Immediately his break pads clamped down and her right hand gripped his gear stick, shifting it to reverse. What? She was treating him like, like a car. He held back his objections for the moment as she backed him out of the driveway. In the real world she didn't know him, he had only seen her a couple times, she couldn't know he was an Autobot. Apparently she didn't know in this dream either. Robots in Disguise right?

At least she was gentle as she came to a complete stop and shifted into drive. The faint anger she had seemed to be carrying faded the moment they started down the road, her grip on his steering wheel relaxing from a clench to something more casual.

Gaahl it felt weird, alien even, to have someone driving him. Human hands on his wheel, feet working his pedals, someone else controlling his own frame. Totally bizarre. But if she didn't know he was an Autobot he couldn't reveal himself could he? It wasn't doing him any harm. A mission, did he have a mission? A reason for pretending to be her car? No this was a dream, there wasn't, or didn't have to be, a reason.

No mission. Even in his dreams he usually had a mission, something he had to do, some objective to complete. He felt the grip on his steering wheel tighten and realized that he had, in his musings, begun to fight her control. He forced himself to relax, to yield steering to her. It just felt so unnatural. Driving around, not knowing where he was going, not following anyone, just letting himself go where his wheels were pointed.

Pointed by someone else. Prowl stiffened, a soft growl coming up from deep inside him. He was an Autobot! Not some dumb machine.

"Come on baby." She pleaded as she struggled with the wheel and stuttering engine. "We are almost there." And she sounded so broken Prowl backed off immediately and was rewarded with her relaxing and a small pained smile on her lips.

His processor spun, trying to figure out what was going on, what she was thinking, why she was reacting as she did, stumbling through the fog of dream logic as he rolled along, tense but yielding. What was the scenario? They entered a parking lot and she carefully parked him between two smaller vehicles. "Made it." She said with a smile and shut off his engine, removing the keys and locking his door as she headed for the building. Her words indicated an affection but many humans developed an affection for their vehicles and she certainly didn't act as if he were anything other than just a car. And surely no human would dare treat an Autobot like a mere conveyance, not one like her anyway.

How silly, he didn't really know anything about her, he had only caught glimpses of her as he drove around. She could be any kind of person, kind or cruel, humble or proud, vain or cocky or caring, he didn't know. But something in his spark said no, she was a good human, kind and caring and honest. Illogical assumption his processor protested but he dismissed the notification. He excused the lapse on grounds that this was a dream and things here could be as he imagined regardless of reality, though in truth when it came to her he didn't care about what was logical. It was so contrary to his core programming he still had trouble admitting it to himself, even here in the insulated safety of his dreams.

A key was jammed into a slit in his back and twisted, popping his trunk open. What in the? Was she? She was loading groceries into his trunk like some common vehicle. He was so shocked he found himself stifling a chuckle. It was just so ridiculous, so inappropriate to be manhandled and used this way. How had she even gotten so many groceries in the 3.721 minutes since she had left?

He let out a soft sigh and settled on his tires. Well it wasn't as if anything like this could or would ever happen in the real world. He didn't really spend much time with humans, even those that hung out at headquarters. She closed his trunk with a bit of a slam and he shivered as the closing mechanisms locked in place. Maybe he could just 'roll with it' and enjoy the dream for what it was.

"Lets go for a drive." She said as she got in starting him up with the keys of hers then pulling out. It was strange having those small human hands on his steering wheel, working his gearshift, those small delicate feet on his pedals. But her hands were warm and here, in his dreams, he could trust her to steer him true. He stayed alert, he had been at war too long not to, but he let her choose the course. Even his speed was under her control with her small foot on the accelerator, angle shifting slowly as her imperfect systems worked to maintain speed exactly, something he could do so easily and so much more efficiently. It was hard but he let it go too, let her take full control, relaxing back into the dream.

Her hands were so gentle on his wheel now that she could work it so easily, almost caressing as she coaxed his vehicle mode along curving country roads. Such gentle hands, and so warm too, leaving spots of warmth on the hard material of his wheel where they rested. Prowl found himself humming softly in pleasure as he let go of control, allowing himself to enjoy the soft sensations and the warmth of her soft organic body snuggled so perfectly into his driver's seat. It might as well have been designed for just for her. _He_ might as well have been designed just for her.

Illogical.

Well, maybe, sometimes, he didn't have to be logical. This was a dream after all, there was no war here, no Decepticons, maybe he could just let go of the logic here. Let go and let himself just feel, just be, enjoying things he could never have in the waking world.


	4. Prowl: Carwash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would it feel like to have a car wash?

There she was, coming toward him with a bucket of soapy water in one hand and a sponge in the other. His battle computer began calculating the probability of such an occurrence but he terminated it before it could get very far. He already knew from its sluggish response that he was asleep, that this was a dream. Odd, he didn't dream much.

The thick yellow sponge splatted wetly on his windshield of his vehicle mode making him start. She chuckled, was it as the sound or had she noticed his reaction? His battle computer tried to engage but he dismissed it again as she ran the sponge over his windshield in broad strokes. He didn't want numbers right now. She was humming to herself, a wide smile on those pliant human lips as she lifted his windshield wipers one at a time to scrub beneath them.

The sponge plunged into the bucket and she squeezed it out before pressing it to the join between the windshield and hood. Prowl shivered, the rubber edging there was sensitive, but he tried to mask the reaction. He felt a flutter of panic, he couldn't expose himself. Robots in Disguise. Or did that even matter? The dream made his logic circuits unreliable but as that soft sponge finished scrubbing there and moved on to his hood with deft strokes he found he didn't care.

She was singing now, a broad grin on her face, almost seeming to be laughing as she worked her way across him, scrubbing at bug splats occasionally pressing the sponge against his sleek surfaces to squeeze out extra soapy water to soak at the unpleasant organic messes. She was so meticulous, not missing a single spot on his hood, reaching as far as she could from one side before walking around to the other side to get the rest. Singing she worked her way forward, scrubbing his front fender until there wasn't a trace of organic contaminants.

Oh her voice was heavenly. He wanted so desperately to hum along but... her volume dropped suddenly, was something wrong? Her eyes, gone tender suddenly, she wiped at his headlights with the rinsed sponge, as gently as if they were optics, no as if they were delicate organic eyes. Oh dear. Did she know? Not that the headlights were, but had he done "There, now you'll be able to see clearly." She said with a silly grin. His spark did something strange inside him, almost seeming to stutter. Her voice was just as he had imagined it to be, as beautiful and perfectly lovely as she was.

Before he had time to recover she was scrubbing his side. Short sharp strokes working her way up his left side, starting near his nose across then up and over the housing of his front wheel. She paused to soap up his hubcap, her voice rising in a new song, before moving on to pay particular attention to the leading seams of his door and his rear view mirror. Relentlessly she stuck the corner of the yellow sponge into every nook and cranny, scrubbing each free of even the memory of dirt or grime.

Then she was pressed against his driver's door, up on tiptoe to reach his roof. Long sweeping strokes reaching as far as she could and slowly working her way outward until she was running the corner of the sponge through the gaps at the upper edges of his doors then up and down his windows then the doors themselves.

Prowl hummed softly pleased with her attention to detail and the gentle sweeping sensations. It was alright, she was singing so loud she couldn't have heard him. It just felt so nice, soft sponge soft hands, even if it tickled when he scrubbed at sensitive seams and the rubber strips that formed waterproof seals for his windows. Back window, side, trunk, a stiff scrub to his rear wheel's hubcap and then she was scrubbing at his back bumper. Tickling at his break lights he shivered a bit again wondering lazily if she knew.

Lazily? It was an odd way of things but that word did seem the best to describe. Just resting there on his tires while the lithe organic female scrubbed his vehicle mode clean, working her way up his other side as she started another song. Relaxing as he let the sensations overtake him, processor idling as he just sat back and let himself experience without having to analyze. Her body was pressed against his side door again just on the opposite side as she worked the other half of his roof. Humans were so warm. Not just soft and squishy but warm too even though water, which they were primarily composed of, was usually so cool, cold even.

Too soon his scrubbing was complete, the soapy mixture leaving a tacky residue where it was drying on windshield and hood. But then she had a hose in her hand, spraying him down, laughing as some of the water glanced off his sleek angles back at her. The water was cool and refreshing and it felt so so good to be clean. She even sprayed down his tires, working the nozzle around to clean out the housing of each the runoff going clear in moments.

Suddenly she knelt and turn the spray up onto his undercarriage and Prowl bounced on his shocks barely stopping himself from straight up fleeing. True there was a covering there protecting his inner workings from road hazards but still, a mech had his dignity. Had perhaps being a key work, the way she was laughing she must know. Had he yelped in surprise and given himself away? Or had she always known? He knew in the real world she didn't know him, Autobot or otherwise, but here? Dreams turned the logic circuits unreliable.

A soft hand came down to rest on his roof. "You enjoy that Prowl?" She asked in a sweet voice.

Prowl felt himself relax, spark softening. "Yes" He said softly, a bit embarrassed. She did know, and she accepted him. He started to transform but was stopped by the light open handed slap to his roof.

"Hold your horses Prowler, don't change quite yet." She said half smirking with mischief, eyes seeming almost to glow. Curiosity piqued Prowl did as she asked, wondering what horses were and how he would hold them, especially without hands. He'd heard the peculiar human phrase before but... well he'd have to have heard it before for it to come up in a dream. As lovely as this was it was just a dream.

She brought a small wheeled device over and opened one of his side doors. It was strange, the feel of that small hand lifting the handle, the inner mechanics responding, opening the door without conscious effort. Sort of like reflex. Soon he realized what the device was as she turned it on and pressed the end of the hose at the seams of his upholstery. The vacuum pulled and tugged at his interior startling a soft moan from him as she worked it across all the surfaces, jabbing it at the corners and edges of his foot space as if she harbored a secret vendetta against them. Primus was she trying to kill him? Well that was certainly an illogical thought on his part. And yet he was shocked by how much he could feel it as she worked her way through his vehicle mode's interior. Since his interior was virtually unused there was little for the vacuum to pick up but she was just as thorough inside as she had been on his outsides, pressing the hungry nozzle against every crack and crevice in upholstery and controls alike, stealing away even the most stubborn bits of grit that found ways to lurk in the hard to reach places in every Transformer.

He was humming in pleasure again by the time she had finished, he frame more limp than relaxed. "There all done." She said shutting off the vacuum and pressing a soft kiss to his steering wheel before climbing out. What a peculiar custom. But he had observed humans long enough to know it was a gesture of affection. Odd that. Off she went to put everything away while Prowl rested on his wheels, completely relaxed, enjoying the feeling of pristine cleanliness inside and out and the gentle warmth of earth's gentle yellow sun on his gleaming exterior. Gleaming, yes, bright and polished as new, and she had done it all.

Prowl transformed as she drew near and carefully picked her up. Humans were soft and fragile, the last thing he wanted was to harm her after all this. She smiled up at him and Prowl felt a strange warmth inside, smiling in return. Carefully he pressed a soft kiss to her hair. She giggled musically. "I love you Prowl." She seemed to whisper.

Prowl didn't dream often but he treasured them when he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By 'popular demand' Prowl's waking world
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11563737/chapters/25977792


	5. Prowl: Overthinking Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl dreams of being driven by his human but his over active imagination, and the darknesses of his past, try to ruin it for him.

Prowl was sitting in a driveway. Wait, how'd he get there? He had no memory of

A dream. He shut off his panicking battle computer with a quick line of code.

Another dream? He had been having them in greater frequency of late. It used to be he could go a whole vorn or more without a single one and hardly notice, but now? Perhaps it was just that this small blue plant was so rich in life and, even better, hope. Even the air seemed charged with vitality as he vented it in and out each day on this strange beautiful world, so unlike the war-torn wreck Cybertron had become. Perhaps these dreams were born of that new life new hope, his system's natural reaction to all the new experiences and thoughts this world awoke in his comparatively ancient mind.

Suddenly she was there, key unlocking his door and slipping in. "Lets go for a drive." She chirped cheerfully, fastening her seat belt and jamming the key into his ignition. This would be the third driving dream and it looked like she was once again unaware of his true nature.

It was getting easier to let go, to sit back and enjoy the ride, an endless sequence of involuntary reactions prompted by her expert manipulation of his controls. He glided along the country road watching trees pass, planted at regular intervals along the roadside. He heard a soft contented hum rise up from somewhere deep inside. Content. He felt content.

She started singing again and he hummed along quietly, not wanting to break this fragile perfect moment. Everything on this world was so fragile, like fine glass, but rather than detracting the fragility of it made the beauty all the more precious. Humans especially, so small and fragile. Who knew such tiny creatures could be fully sparked people? Who could have even imagined that fleshy organic creatures could possibly have sparks. Their squishy messy organic components didn't seem capable of containing or sustaining a spark of their own. And yet there wasn't even a shadow of a doubt that their invisible sparks shone just as brightly as any Autobot's.

Perhaps that was why they lived such short lives. The weak organics were unable to survive the bright glory of their sparks for long and simply burned out over time.

Prowl saddened at the thought, engine slowing a bit to his driver's confusion. As beautiful and perfect as these soft small people seemed, they were ultimately ephemeral. He could feel the dream changing, darkening, and tried to focus on other, lighter things.

She was such a lovely human, bright kind eyes, small slightly timid hands that possessed surprising strength when she was annoyed. He loved the way her brow furrowed, as it was doing now, with concentration or confusion, but he forced himself back under control, his emotions really, until his engine and frame were responding as they should again. Her grip on his wheel loosened and the press of her foot on his accelerator slackened as he came back up to speed. "Better get you looked at." She said faintly frowning. "Don't worry, I know a good mechanic." She quirked a slight smile and gave his dash a light affectionate slap.

He wasn't going to have a dream where she took him to a mechanic was he? Oh Primus forbid. The very thought of some human mucking around under his hood made his joints tighten reflexively. The car wash and the vacuuming (he felt himself shiver at the very thought) had been bad enough, having a stranger go at him with primitive human tools and even more primitive understanding of mechanics and Cybertronian physiology?

But what if it was her doing the repair or maintenance or whatever?

No no no. He was _not_  going there. He would not let himself think of such things, of those soft delicate hands, No.

"Warm day." She said, apparently unaware of the effect her previous comment had on him. She flicked on the A/C and Prowl forced himself to settle. The idea of a mechanic visit dream still gnawed at him. He'd had nightmares before, plenty of them, spurred by war and combat and torture. He'd had nightmares of helplessness, of being paralyzed while cruel mechs tore him apart circuit by circuit. He treasured his dreams because they were safe, havens within his own processor where the darkness of his world, of the war, could not reach. The dreams with her were always pleasant things, what would it do to him to have one become a nightmare? What would it do to him to have a nightmare of being tortured by a human mechanic, be it willful or ignorant? His battle computer was active again, spitting out horrible numbers at him that could not be trusted but felt all too true as it ran though scenarios.

His worries, his fears, were changing the dream again, the sun no longer warmed his exterior, sky darkening, the passing trees suddenly bare of leaves. But she was still with him, worried but still calmly working the controls, a soft glowing warmth in his interior. She was with him, here he was safe, could trust her. In the waking world she was an unknown variable but here, here she was a known quantity, a comfort, an anchor. Kind dependable honest loyal. Even when she thought him nothing more than a common vehicle she treated him with kindness and respect.

The tension in his frame relaxed slowly and he could hear as well as feel the change as his internals started running more smoothly, his engine and wiring no longer so constricted. She was here, he was safe. Even when she teased or manhandled sensitive controls he was always safe with her, nestled in his driver's seat, guiding his path, modulating his speed.

At least here, in his own mind, he could trust her completely to be exactly all he could hope for. Protecting, and being protected by, him from the darkness of the waking world, of the never ending war, that gnawed at his battered spark like rust.

Prowl didn't dream often but each was a treasure, a balm to his wounded spark.

This was his safe place. _She_  was his safe place. There was no room for the troubles and worries of the waking world here.

There was only room for him and her, and an endless road to drive on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a different dream but as I was writing it it mutated into this, so I'm going to have to try again to write the original story x.x  
> I have two more Prowl dreams knocking around in my head, both are sad though.


	6. Prowl: Putting on the Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He only wanted to keep her safe.

This time he recognized he was dreaming almost immediately, shutting down his battle computer before it could begin its panicked garbled calculations. He was sitting in... a parking lot? In his vehicle mode he couldn't see beyond the mute cars around him. He should have felt boxed in, nervous to see so little in unfamiliar territory. Even now his warrior protocols were insisting he transform and get a lay of the land, check for enemy Decepticons.

But Prowl didn't feel upset, instead there was a small sweet tingle in his spark because he could hear her, that clear pure voice he always imagined her having tickling his audio receptors with a cheerful melody. He couldn't see her but he could already hear the jingle of keys. His engine tried to rev to a start in anticipation but he forced it to still, a normal car didn't start on its own. Besides it was downright silly to be so excited just to be driven around by his human. Who wasn't even really his human, he reminded himself, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep through him. Just because she haunted his dreams, that didn't give him any real claim to her.

But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy these moments for what they were. Here, in the privacy of his own mind, she could be his human.

He hadn't realized she had slipped up to his side until he felt the key in the locking mechanism of his door. She closed the door with a bit of a slam, sending a jolt through his frame. Again his engine tried to start prematurely but he held it back until that key was twisted in his ignition, almost roaring to life. She chuckled a bit as if at his eagerness but her words made his spark sink just a bit. "Aren't you an eager little car." True her words could be interpreted as knowing his identity and just teasing him, but it was far more likely spurred by ignorance. He felt a soft sweet ache inside. He had so enjoyed the dream where she had known him, why couldn't this be another like that? And yet as she pulled him out of the parking lot onto a main road he admitted that he enjoyed the ache, the tentative nervousness of not knowing how she would react if he exposed himself, and, worst of all, the slightly dangerous feel of letting go, of handing off control to someone else. Him, Prowl, always so precise and in control, not just yielding control to another (and a civilian at that), but enjoying it.

His break pads burned slightly as she decided, just a little slow, that she couldn't make the yellow light ahead. Prowl jerked slightly as he came to a complete stop. This reminder of his human's imperfect driving skills was endearing more than anything. Even the best of humans couldn't compete with an Autobot's skill at driving. But she was skilled and careful so it really didn't matter. She was perfect in her imperfections.

Illogical. So very illogical. And he cheerfully admitted to himself that he couldn't care less.

It felt so lovely rolling along with her behind his wheel. His engine purred with contentment, every joint and junction relaxed, as she guided him along the gently curving road. She was singing again, cheerfully belting out the words, and Prowl couldn't help but hum along softly. She sang like an angel. How he wished he had a voice to match, but he had always been a poor singer. Probably better that way, no doubt he would have exposed himself as more than just a car simply to try singing a duet with her. Oh it would be lovely if he had a voice to match hers, they would make such beautiful music together.

A small chuckle escaped his vocalizer unnoticed. He was starting to sound like Jazz, beautiful music indeed. Maybe he would have a dream like that, dreams were funny things, a secret place where you could enjoy things you could never have in the waking world. This dream a case in point. He could never just drive around with his lovely little human snuggled into his driver's seat in the real world. There was too much to do and Decepticons and danger. Too much depended on him being focused, on task, on him being hte perfectly precise logical expert tactician everyone needed him to be.

So much was demanded of him in the waking world perhaps it was not so surprising after all that he enjoyed these simple driving dreams. It was hard to relinquish control but at the same time it felt glorious to play the part of an ordinary car with his sweet little human who asked nothing of him, expected nothing of him, except for his controls to work easily and engine to run smoothly. It was, in a way, nice for her not to know. Her ignorance meant she didn't have any expectations of him as a person, he could just sit back on his tires and relax, enjoying the ride without the pressure of being expected to speak or even keep a lookout.

The sun shone brightly overhead, warming his exterior while his singing human warmed his interior and spark together. The road stretched on ahead, a freeway in the middle of nowhere, only gently rolling green hills with the occasional cluster of trees as far as the eye could see. How his human enjoyed the freedom of speed, as careful and precise as she was whenever there were other cars around. Her hand came down from his steering wheel to ghost over his gear stick before coming to rest on it lightly. Prowl shivered slightly wishing he was manual instead of automatic. It might hurt a bit if she wasn't used to it but she would learn, and it would increase her control over him. How utterly silly of him and, he felt a flush of embarrassment creeping over him again, inappropriate. He shouldn't really allow himself to enjoy this so much, putting all control into the hands of another. But he trusted her, letting the safety and comfort of it encircle, and even swallow him whole. He trusted her here and she relied on him in turn. A symbiosis? He wondered if it would feel so nice in the waking world. It seemed unlikely but a mech could dream right?

That soft sweet ache was back again. He wanted her to see him, and not just here, but in the waking world too. A stupid useless desire, sure only to bring grief in the long term. He let himself feel it anyway, savoring the bitter sweetness of it as she fiddled idly with his gear shift without actually changing gears. Her eyes stayed on the road as she moved her hand to his radio next, fiddling with the controls despite the device being completely inoperative. "Such a good little car." She murmured softly, eyes distant and soulful, almost sad.

Suddenly there was a stopped car ahead of them. Had he not been paying enough attention or had it simply appeared out of thin air as things in dreams could? There wasn't enough time. Prowl slammed on his brakes while his human was still in the midst of realization. He could feel her foot chasing after his break pedal a second after he had already fully engaged them. Surprise was spreading across her face but his processor was running, calculating. He still wouldn't stop in time and there was a sheer drop to the side of the road. He spun his wheel all the way to the right, throwing himself into a perfectly executed skidding spin to sap his momentum as he pulled her seat belt tight, pressing her into the safety of his driver's seat. He had to keep her safe. She was screaming in terror but he quickly came to a complete stop, his own fear loosening. He had managed to stop in time despite their speed, she was unharmed. He allowed himself a flicker of pride, she couldn't have pulled off such a maneuver, and he'd managed to keep her safe. Take that cruel world!

What was this? She was clawing at the seat belt buckle, frantically freeing herself and lunging for the door handle. Well it was natural to want to get some air after a shock like that right? She had nearly died, she might need to purge. But she was screaming about her car being haunted? She yanked the door handle hard, throwing it open with such force it damaged the connecting struts and wires as it struck the end of its opening arc. Prowl let out a muffled cry of pain, his side doors were sensitive. "I'm not haunted." He protested, hurt and horrified by her fear.

She scrambled back on hands and heels, eyes wide with horror as they rested on him. "Possessed! My car is Possessed!"

"What? No. I'm an Autobot." He protested, transforming to reinforce his statement. She paused in her mad scramble, jaw hanging open as she stared at him in naked terror. No. It wasn't supposed to be like this. "Please, I won't hurt you." He took a stumbling step forward, reaching out one hand to calm her. Her eyes flicked from him to his outstretched hand and then she was up and running, fleeing as fast as her thin human legs could carry her. "No!" She was leaving him. "We are friends to humans." He took another stumbling step, spark shattering inside him. "Help. Protect." His voice was weak and broken, even to his own audio receptors. His voice could not bring her back. He could have chased after her, caught her easily, but the terror in her eyes... Prowl let out a stifled gasp, vents shuddering as they constricted. Not everyone liked Autobots, he knew that, accepted it. But her? The image of her pale, terror stricken face hung before him, his processor replaying the awful scene again and again. His joints loosened, the cables and wiring that held him together going slack. He couldn't lose her. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams, falling literally to pieces be cause he had, he had lost her. His quick thinking had protected her from harm, but in saving her, he had lost her.

Forever.

A soft sob escaped him, rattling his weak frame. Dark, everything was dark. Agony lanced up through him as his knees slammed into the ground, soon followed by the rest of him, nose smashed as it hit the road. He knew it was just asphalt but it could have been caltrops and cybertronian razor wire for how much it hurt. Another sob wrenched its way free.

If only he was Bumblebee, the bright cheerful little bot made friends everywhere he went. Or Jazz, slick and laid back, always quick with the right words to make good any situation. If it'd been either one of them they'd have calmed her fear and charmed her too in an astrosecond. But no, he was Prowl, perfectly precise and logical, master tactician, but who was cold and struggled with words, with a voice that could explain any plan, any scenario, but failed to express _him_. Prowl sobbed brokenly, frame curling in on itself in a vain attempt to fill the void she had left inside him. Cold, so very cold. Ice accumulating on his transistors. Despair pooling inside his chassis, slowly filling his spark chamber. Soon it would drown his very spark.

No! This was a dream! It wasn't real, none of it was real!

Except the feelings. The feelings were real.


End file.
